I promised myself I would work for two hours this morning. Ideally, four would have been nice, but I told myself after the first quarter-hour that two would be the limit. You see…

My back is hurting again. A lot of this has to do with computer work, and two seven-hour drives in the past weekend; I haven’t been back to my osteopath in two months due to this not-working thing (and besides, I felt so much better… so like any other human being I stopped the (admittedly expensive) treatment.) My eyes hurt, and my back hurts, and I have the attention span of a flea. I know I have to get a couple of hours of cello work in this afternoon as well, since we’re doing sectional rehearsals tonight and I’m going to be horribly embarrassed, as I always am, since there are some quite nasty passages that come out of nowhere in the Mendelssohn, and the Handel is a nightmare. I’m seriously considering skipping it, except that we only have seven rehearsals before our December memorial concert. Deliberately missing a rehearsal would be, well, irresponsible. Even though my eyes and my back hurt, and rehearsal will only make them worse.

Ten more minutes to go. Just ten more minutes. Then I’ll stop.

I just feel all grumbly. I want to curl up with a book and a cat, and some Bach. I want to have a heating pad on my back, and a teapot beside me. I want the world to go away.